Avengers Theatre Presents: 28 Days Later
by Flocculent Aura
Summary: Four weeks after a mysterious, incurable virus spreads throughout the UK, Loki and a handful of survivors try to find sanctuary. Parody of the 2002 film, 28 Days Later. Contains spoilers of said film, and the rating is subject to change.
1. Beginning of Something Else

**Avengers Theatre Presents: 28 Days Later**

**Intro: Beginning of Something Else...**

* * *

A group of three-maybe four-adults dressed from head-to-foot in black clothing and masks, (looking all-around burglar-esque in their costumes) piled out of their four-door vehicle. They all carried their own flashlight and can of spray-paint. "We won't let them get away with this injustice." One of the trespassers hissed, as he locked their car, and motioned for everyone to follow him.

Crossing the lot, they all tried to be careful not to alert any of the S.H.I.E.L.D night-guards. Once they got to the door, the leader of the group overrode the electronic lock and let them inside.

Running through the atrium, the marauders began tagging the walls with assortment of colors. Laughing as quietly as possible, the group split up. The leader went down a winding hallway, spraying the walls and doors, as he legged it to the end of the corridor.

Swearing giddily, the man found himself at the end of the hall; standing in front of a big set of metal double-doors. Spraying the doors with a huge, purple smiley-face, he turned to leave, but paused when he heard noises in the other room. His eyebrow quirked up under his balaclava, and the man turned back to the door. More noise could be heard-and at a more rapid pace, as well... _was that heavy breathing, or crying_?

Straining his ears to hear what was being said or done in the other room; the trespasser scrunched his face up, when he thought he heard a muffled scream. Putting the cap back on his spray-can, the man put it back in his shoulder-bag and grabbed the handle on the door. Twisting it as slowly as he could manage, the man pushed the door open gently-just enough so he could peek inside.

What he saw was enough to make him gasp aloud. Right in clear view, under a bright spotlight, there was a woman strapped to a table. She was struggling and grunting; trying to break free from her bindings. Blood and saliva trickled down the corners of her lips and stained the collar of her patient's gown, and her eyes were blown wide and red with Conjunctivitis.

As he stared at the captive and formulated an escape plan, he heard a voice approaching from the corridor. The man rounded the table and hid underneath it. From his vantage point, he could see a pair of legs and what appeared to be a med kit approach his position until it stopped at the edge of the table.

Knowing that the scientist would pull something from his bag of doom, the masked man quietly pulled out his switch blade and plunged it into the foot of the person.

The scientist let out a short cry of pain that was immediately silenced by the slitting of his throat. Ignoring the gargling noises of the dying man on the floor, the masked person wiped the blade on his pants and placed it back on his utility belt. "Don't worry, I am here to save you." He whispered loud enough for the woman to hear. Reaching for the restraints, the masked man started to undo them, but quickly retracted when the woman became extremely hostile to his actions.

She started screaming at the person in front of her. "Stop it!" He hissed as he undid the buckles of each restraints. "Listen, when you leave this room, go left and head out a pair of black doors." The man instructed as he unfastened the last one, when he did this. The woman lunged at her savior. He swatted her hands away. "Bitch, are you crazy!"

Little did he know that speaking would get him nowhere. The crazed woman jumped at the masked man, knocking him to the ground. As this scuffle was happening, the man's walkie-talkie came to life. _We_ _have to get out of here. They shot Max while he and Julia were freeing some people!_ Unbeknownst to the person on the other end of the line, his comrade was being mauled.

The masked man couldn't fight off the smaller woman, as she clawed ravenously at his chest. He punched at the woman multiple times, but none of his blows seemed to injure her; instead, she only became angrier and her strikes grew fiercer.

It was as if she possessed the strength of a large man on PCP. Not seeing it coming, the woman plunged her teeth into his neck. "Aaah!" The man screamed. He tried pushing her away, but the action only assisted the crazed woman with tearing flesh from his neck.

He desperately grabbed for his switch-blade, finding it on his hip. With all the force he could muster, he plunged the blade into the female's temple. Slowly, the life drained from her eyes as she slumped forward.

As he laid there, the fluids from the woman's head dripped into his exposed chest cavity. Not too long after, the man succumbed to his own injuries due to their severity and the infection that the woman had given him.


	2. New Surroundings

**A/N: **_Reviews are my friends, and I welcome them with open arms. Please, leave a random message, a critique or point out a mispelled word. I just need to know that my peeps care. Peace! ;)_

**Chapter one: New Surroundings**

* * *

28 days later...

Sleepy green eyes slowly fluttered opened and were immediately met with a blinding overhead light. Those same eyes clenched shut at the artificial-illumination, and the owner of them groaned at the pain that radiated throughout his skull. A headache like no other settled somewhere behind his nose, and his brain began to do something akin to pulsating. _Was this dehydration? _Gods, he needed to get up.

Gritting his teeth at what was sure to be an onslaught of pain, the man opened his eyes a bit, and found a less glaring light shinning through the blinds; courtesy of the morning sun, which had woken the otherwise comatose man.

With another pathetic sound of discomfort, Loki turned his head and turned over the idea of falling asleep, once more. He had been banished from Asgard, what reason did he have to take care of this wimpy mortal body? Why not drift off into a peaceful sleep and die like the All-Father had originally intended?

Staring at a white tile-wall, Loki scrunched his nose up at the smell of medicine and death wafting around the room. Without even having to check out his surroundings, the banished God of Mischief knew himself to be in a Midgardian healing-ward. A hospital, in plain English.

Feeling the sheets slide against his bare skin, Loki gasped; absolutely scandalized. _Where are my clothes! _He mentally shrieked.

Wanting to recover some sense of decency, Loki wrapped the sheet around his lower half, then the man proceeded to get up. As he stood, he could feel several needles tugging at his skin. With a hiss, the man slowly yanked them out. Small trickles of blood seeped from the pricks in his skin.

Standing on shaky limbs, the raven-haired man moved towards the door. Looking through the small window, he could not make out any movement in the hall. Slowly, he crept out of the operating room and down the hallway. Loki peeked into every open door, looking for any signs of life.

As he ventured down the corridor, Loki made the decision to find some clothes. He entered a vacant room and found a pair of scrubs. Hastily, he put on the garments before searching the cabinets to find any bandages. When he located some under a flipped table, he quickly wrapped the wounds. Checking for any more wounds and not finding any, Loki set out to find the exit.

He walked to the end of the hallway. "Hello?" The raven-haired man shouted as he climbed down a set of stairs, stopping at the middle of the staircase to look around, the man repeated. "Hello, is anyone here?"

Garnering no response, Loki walked down a few more steps and reached the bottom. Not knowing where to go, he explored the first floor of the hospital and found a vending machine that had been ransacked. All the colas and energy drinks were missing; except for the plethora Nesquik that was left. It lay innocently on the floor; looking like the best thing Loki had seen in ages.

Popping the top off, Loki downed the contents of the can in one go. The chocolate flavored liquid quickly quenched his thirst, but the fact that it was warm, made the milk a bit unpleasant. _Uh, warm milk... _He thought, as tossed the one can and glanced around the area. His eyes land on a plastic bag nearby.

Loading it up with cans, he trudged his way through the remaining portion of the hospital and out the front entrance.


	3. Wandering

**A/N: **_Everyone, I t__hank you for adding me and this story to your alerts list. And a special thanks to 8fangirl8. _

_High five to all of you! _

**Chapter two: Wandering**

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Eventually, he found himself walking through town, more specifically, on a bridge. _Where in the Nine Worlds did Odin drop me? _He looked around himself. Nothing resembled the bustling city of New York, nor did the city have that sloppy American vibe to it.

The silence was taxing the Asgardian's nerves. It was as if every one had simply vanished. "Hello!" Loki shouted, but as usual, he received no response.

Hours passed as Loki found himself wandering the empty streets of London. Marveling at the structural designs of the buildings and also questioning the unkempt state of the city.

Paper littered the side-walks, multiple cars were over turned-these were all signs of rioting; yet, not a single person had returned to restore order.

Sighing out of boredom, Loki continued his trek towards an intersection where he spotted a silver car that appeared unharmed from the activities of the previous day.

Arriving at the vehicle, the raven-haired man gripped the door handle, but in doing that, the car alarm was activated. The sudden noise startled the man, causing him to clutch his chest. _Damn it! _Huffing loudly, he walked away.

Resuming his road trip to nowhere, Loki came across a notice board in the middle of town. Hundreds of fliers plastered it's surface, leaving no parts uncovered. Each one contained the same information regarding missing people.

Stepping away from the notice board, Loki spotted a church a few blocks away. Seeing something that he recognized instantly peaked his interest. Loki hurried down the street.

Inside, the church seemed like an eerie place to be at the moment. His conscious nagged him to turn away at once, but the man shrugged the feeling off and pressed forward.

Climbing up a flight of stairs, the man examined some graffiti on the wall. In the dim light, he could make out:_ Repent, the end is extremely fucking nigh... _It was ironic to Loki, that the Midgardian's would write expletives on the wall of one of their holy sanctuary.

Resuming his trek upstairs, Loki found himself in the Cathedral. The scene in front of Loki appalled him greatly. Hundreds of bodies scattered throughout the room, some lay over pews, others in piles. He felt sick to his stomach. He wasn't used to how this body reacted to the foul smell of death, and so, Loki had to cover his mouth to keep from vomiting.

Loki walked around the bodies and the man was startled when two men stood up from the piles of deceased.

Loki kept his eyes on the two, as he moved towards the door at the back of the room. He slowed when the sound of pounding grew louder, as he neared the back. Suddenly, the door burst open to reveal a priest. The older man twitched and grunted loudly, his eyes were blood-shoot and overall, his appearance showed signs of illness.

"I command that you tell me what is happening here!" Loki said firmly, yet his words fell on deaf ears. The infected man stammered closer, causing the raven-haired man to back away. Not stopping, the priest lunged at Loki, pushing him into the window.

The raven-haired man tried his best to fight off the blighted priest, and eventually pushed him down onto the floor. The ill man gave a full-body shudder on the ground, as he spat up and growled dangerously at Loki. His eyes were threatening, as blood seeped from the corners like streaming crimson tears.

Stepping back to evade the priest's swiping hands, Loki looked up at the door and decided that he shouldn't waste anymore time standing there. And seeing that this was his opportunity to leave, the man darted out the nearest door-unfortunately, the sounds his heavy foot-fall made attracted the attention of the other few of the infected.

They let out a series of alarming howls, as they vaulted over the bodies surrounding them and took off after Loki-who, by now, was running to the door so fast, that the bare soles of feet were beginning to blister with each harsh impact with the smooth marble floor.

Loki debated whether or not dropping his bag was a good idea; but, as he passed the threshold of the Church and found himself legging it through the street with zombies hot on his trail, the raven-haired man's mind went blank. The only thought he could process was the one that said: "RUN! RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!"

As Loki felt the infected gaining on him, the banished god thought of himself as a goner. _Aw, Hel... this wasn't the way he wanted to go! He still hadn't conquered Midgard, or killed Thor, yet! _Praying to the All-Father; because, it wouldn't kill him just this once not to be a total dick and would actually help Loki out, the raven-haired man felt his calves ache with fatigue, as he turned a corner and ran through an alleyway.

His chest heaved, as he passed through the constricting space and back into the street. To his surprise, when Loki wiped his head around to see if the zombies followed him; he discovered them to be gone! _Holy shit-it worked! Odin listened to him! _Loki came to an abrupt stop, so that he could hunch over and regulate his erratic breaths.

Coughing thrice, Loki wiped his forehead and held a hand to his chest to calm his heart. Which was beating at such a staccato pace that it seemed as though it was going to jump out of his chest cavity and take his throbbing lungs with it!

As he breathed deeply and counted backwards from ten, Loki dug around in his bag and retrieved another can of Nesquik. Emptying the bottle Cindy Crawford-style, the raven-haired man sighed and tossed the can behind and exhaled. Preparing to leave, Loki jumped when his discarded Nesquik bottle clanked on the hard ground and incited a chorus of growls from nearby infected.

Looking to his left; Loki nearly pissed his scrubs, when he saw a wall of blighted Londoners all staring at him with their Conjunctivitis-inflicted eyes. _Oh, fuck you, Odin! _He mentally screamed, as he turned and began running like his life depended on it. 'Cause it did, of course.

Usually, in situations like this; where the infected ran like Olympic athletes, you would take great pains to keep quiet-ya' know, to avoid attracting anymore than necessary-but, since Loki had a village full of people chasing him down like hungry wolves; the banished god found nothing wrong with screaming his head off like a terrified little girl being hugged by the Hulk.

Near a gas station, a two man group could hear the _former_ god of mischief wailing. Seeing the horde behind the pale fellow, the duo lit their supply of Molotov cocktails and hefted them at the infected.

One by one, they started to picked off the stragglers. But it wasn't enough to hold them back. So, as soon as Loki entered the parking lot of the gas station, one of the two guided him away while the other set up a make shift bomb. As soon it was ready, he darted in the direction of his partner and Loki.

It only took 10 seconds for the fuse to light the gasoline. This resulted in a fiery explosion, that drew the attention of every infected in a four block radius.


	4. Night Chills

**Chapter three: Night Chills**

* * *

The three ran through the empty streets for a bit until one of the masked pair pointed to a store on the next corner. Once they got inside, the taller one barricaded the door. Loki scrambled away from the two, pushing his back against the wall. _Shit, I'm out numbered!_

Both people set their weapons down and pulled their masks off almost exactly at the same moment to reveal a woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties;_ her face reminded him of someone_. And a man... BARTON!

Loki lunged for the blond man, wrapping his hands around the shorter man's neck. "What's going on, and how did you find me?" Up close, Barton could make out the man's face. _Oh shit, its Loki_. "GET OFF OF ME!" Clint shouted. as he struggled with the raven-haired man.

The woman, who we'll call Donna, jumped on Loki's back and wrestled him to the floor. Clint got back to his feet and snapped up his machete. "The true question is, why are you here!" The archer shouted back to the raven-haired man, who by then, had stopped his struggling and stilled himself in the woman's embrace.

"It depends on what answer you want, Archer-the short one or the long one?" Loki narrowed his eyes, when Donna tightened her hold just a bit, and Clint advanced on him and pressed the tip of the blade into the banished god's chest. Knowing full-well that the blonde was just looking for a reason to kill him, Loki refrained from taunting him, and instead seethed. "Why I'm here is none of your damned business."

Clint glared, and pressed the machete closer to Loki's body-the pointed tip tore through the thin layers of the raven-haired man's shirt and nicked his ivory skin. "Don't fuck around, Loki. We'll put you outside with those damned zombies!"

The banished god winced, before freeing his hands from Donna's hold and using them to pry the machete off himself. "The longer I stay in here; the better being outside sounds." With his hands on either side of the blade, Loki snatched the weapon out of Clint's hands and dropped it on the floor.

As the metal clanked on the floor, Donna pushed Loki into a nearby shelf, which was half-stocked with Little Debbie snack-cakes, and stalked off to find herself a corner to sit in. Casting angry-looks at the former god-who was groaning and extracting himself from the shelf-Donna crossed her arms and plopped down onto a dirty mat on the floor.

"So, are we done acting like savages?" Loki grumbled, shrugging the kinks out of his shoulder, as he split his hair in sections and scraped creme and cookie pieces out of his obsidian-colored mane.

Clint collected his weapon off the floor, before he sat beside Donna and mimicked her angry expression. "For now, we'll be civil and let you stay with us..." Trailing off, the blonde admired the sharp edge of his machete. "But, believe me when I say this, _Loki_-" He hissed the former-god's name like a swear. "-If you step even a _toe_ out of line; I'm going to kill you slowly, and painfully."

Sterling-blue eyes met frosty-green ones, and immediately, the tension in the room thickened to that of a hearty gravy. Loki smirked wickedly, "That's the same thing I told your little girlfriend-Agent Romanoff." Clint jumped up at hearing Loki speak Natasha's name. The banished god of mischief laughed aloud. "I wonder where she is now-your reaction leads me to think that she's dead like the rest."

Clint lunged at Loki; letting out a fierce battle-cry, as he prepared to plunge his blade into the raven-haired man. "Fuck you!"

It all happened in a blur; Clint's attack on Loki-and all the former-god was sure of was that he didn't get run-through, because Donna had intervened at the last moment. Standing above Clint's doubled-over form, was the furious young woman; her boot-clad foot was planted firmly into the archer's back-keeping him on the ground just inches away from Loki's feet-and her right hand was resting on the swell of her hip while the other held the blonde's machete away from his murderous hands. "What the fuck, Clint!"

The man grunted underneath Donna's foot. "Remember, she was the reason why you lost everything. Don't get angry on her behalf!" Slowly, the young woman lifted her foot, which, allowed Clint to stand up. Grunted in acknowledgement, the man wielded his machete and disappeared through the storage room door.

Settling back into her spot on the floor, Donna eyed the frail man adjacent to her. "You just come from a hospital?" Not immediately understanding the woman, Loki began to deny her statement when he caught sight of his attire. "Uh, yes." The raven-haired man didn't elaborate any further on the subject, after that.

Capitalizing on the sudden moment of silence, Loki retracted into the dark recesses of his mind. While trying to plot an escape plan, one nagging question kept recurring, no matter how much he tried to discard it. _She seemed to resemble someone he'd rather not mention_. Shuddering from the very thought. _Yuck..._

He watched the woman shift around uncomfortably in her spot and reclined against the counter. Soon, she closed her eyes due to fatigue. This gave Loki the opportunity to study the young woman's features. _She's certainly pleasing to the eyes, that's for sure._ He continued his inspection, not noticing that the woman had fixed her gaze on the raven-haired man.

Feeling the scrutiny of someone's gaze, Loki's focus immediately snapped from the young woman's neck to met the pair of dark brown eyes that stared back just as intensely. Mentally overlapping the S.H.I.E.L.D Director's face onto this woman's allowed the last piece of the puzzle fall in place-_ODIN'S BALLS!_ "You're Fury's spawn!" With a surge of anger, the man lunged forward and pinned the young woman against the counter.

Firmly gripping her neck, he held her in place. "What do you plan to do with me?" Struggling under his body weight, Donna did not respond at first. She was stubborn; just like her father. The thought made Loki tighten his grasp on Donna's neck.

Finally, when the lack of air getting to her brain caused her vision to grow spotty and the skin on her face to become numb, she choked out: "Nothing-I swear!" After that, the dark-haired woman stopped fighting the raven-haired man long enough for him to loosen his grip.

Taking a few deep lung-fills of the stale air, Donna quickly mustered up the remainder of her strength, and caught the man by his dainty pale wrist. Making sure she had a vice-like grip, Donna pulled Loki onto her and then used her weight to roll over on top of him and pin him to the floor. Sitting astride his waist, Donna held her hands firmly on his shoulders, and amazingly, she was easily able to wrestle the weak man into submission.

The strenuous activity aggravated an unknown injury that the man obtained sometime during the last two days. Loki groaned in pain, as he lay on his back; eyes drawn tightly closed, as he tried to will the pain away. As he reacted to the blossoming agony in his torso, he didn't see Donna's hand disappear behind her back.

Unbeknownst to him, Donna had retrieved her pocket knife. She and Clint had a matching set; they bought them both at Wal-Mart, when they tried to dress up as Wolverine for Halloween... but, that's a different story, for a different time. Donna put on her mean-face, before she smacked the banished god so hard, that the gel flew out of his hair and stained the linoleum floor beneath him. Pressing the tip of her blade to Loki's neck, she threatened: "Pull that stunt again, I dare you!"

Weighing his options, Loki just held still until Donna climbed off of him and stalked off to the corner the former god assumed that she slept in. She grabbed her bag off her flattened sleeping-bag and headed for the storage room.

Loki just laid there in silence; not caring if they left him or not. He was more concerned with the throbbing pain in his ribcage. Lifting his top, the raven-haired man inspected his skin and discovered that he could make out an ever-darkening bruise on his chest in the scant light that came from the lone, swinging light bulb overhead. Sighing to himself, he turned onto his side and tried to get some rest.

Several hours had passed when Clint emerged from the storage room. Cautiously moving around the counter; he could see Loki curled in the fetal position. Moving closer to remove any possible weapons, Barton noted the raven-haired man's shallowing breathes. Putting his palm to Loki's head, he could tell that the man had a fever.

Rushing to the back room, Clint awakened his partner. "What is it?" She slurred. "Loki has a fever." The man stated as he gathered some items from his back pack. Heading into the front, the archer crouched in front of the ill man. "Hey, I need you to drink this."

Loki weakly lifted his head to drink the water. Only managing to take three sips. "I don't have any real medication, but, here..." Placing a cold pack on Loki's forehead, he stared at the shivering raven-haired man.

He never thought this would happen, but he felt a little sympathetic towards the ailing man before him. Maybe it was the man's sallow complexion; or the deep, dark pits forming around his eyes... or-maybe it was because Loki was puking his guts out on Donna's shoes, right now.

"Eugh... fuck, man. It's seeping into my socks!" Donna gagged, as the warm, viscous fluid squished between her toes and soaked her socks through.

Clint smirked smugly, before swearing aloud, when Loki turned to give the archer a new decal on his boots with a bit of his stomach-soup. As the blonde stumbled back and just narrowly avoided getting vomit on his own shoes, he kicked Loki in the leg. "Knock it off!"

Loki obeyed a command for once, and settled for emptying the rest of his stomach out on the floor. Collapsing beside the puddle, disgusted and exhausted beyond belief.

The dark-haired woman moved towards the window, peeking through the to get a better look at the street. "Guys, the infected have moved out of the area." She turned back, her face showing the excitement that her voice didn't accurately depict.

But as sudden as the excitement came, reality set in. "Shit, how are we going to move him?" She pointed at Loki.

"Well, we have three options. One: we risk setting off car alarms, trying to hotwire a car. Two: we could travel on foot, but frequently stop to let him rest. And Three: we leave without him." Clint casually said, leaving the decision to Donna, who glared back at the blonde. "Come on, you know the man hasn't proven loyalty nor has he been useful."

Hearing the conversation over head and not liking where its headed, Loki added his opinion. "Why listen to Barton? he just wants me dead. Besides, I haven't had any opportunities to help." Pulling himself in an up right position, Loki focused his attention on Donna. "I would suggest that you think this through before casting me out."

The dark-haired woman stood in thought, weighing her options and looking for the best possible outcome. "I think we should mesh all three options into one." Clint threw his hands up in frustration. "Come the hell on! Why are you saving him?" Crossing the room to stand in front of Donna. "He was the one to bring those aliens to New York."

"It doesn't matter, he can't do anything to us." Pointing out his condition. "We could also use him as bait, if need be." Ignoring Clint and Loki's disapproving stares, she instructed Clint to gather some items for the road before turning back to the man on the floor. "Loki, you will need your energy. Eat up." Donna commanded as she tossed him some snack food and another can of Nesquik.

The raven-haired man sighed loudly to gain the attention of the people around him. "Got anything better to eat?"


End file.
